Make Something of It

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Make Something of It Page 4

by Stephanie Perry Moore


  I suppose he wasn’t used to a female talking to him like that because he stood up and towered over me. “You ain’t got to front on me in front of all these people.”

  But then a guy stood between us. “And you ain’t got to put your funky breath up in a girl’s face.”

  The guy pushed Fritz back some. I looked up and was stunned to see Spencer. Not that I needed him to rescue me, but if that’s what it took for him to cross my path again, I was grateful.

  “Wait, dude, you better watch it!” Fritz got buck and said.

  “Uh! It’s alright, Fritz. He didn’t mean nothing by it,” I said just trying to calm the guy down. “I guess I do know somebody else here. He’s my cousin.”

  Fritz eyed Spencer down. “Well, you better tell your cousin to chill.”

  I grabbed my tray, pushed Spencer in the back, and we went to some tables outside.

  “I’m your cousin now?” he laughed.

  “I had to calm the guy down with something, but you didn’t have to jump in. I had it.”

  “It didn’t look like you had it from where I was sitting.”

  “So you were watching me?” I said to him.

  He looked away.

  “Not big, bad Spencer. I know you’re not shy.”

  “A lot’s been going on, that’s all,” he voiced.

  And when he said that, it took me back to the seriousness of all that had been going on with him. Last time I saw him he was being carted out of a room. I knew he had a temper, and I certainly didn’t want him getting in trouble in school over me. But I did want to ask the tough questions. I wanted to get to know him. I wanted to find out where he’d been. At least I knew he was okay, but was he really okay?

  “I’ve been worried about you,” I said. “And I owe you a big apology. I’ve been dreaming about …”

  “Wait, you talking about me watching you … you’ve been dreaming about me?”

  “No, forget I said that.” But he was beaming, totally happy I was into him. Though I had caramel skin, I’m sure my cheeks were rosy red from blushing. “I saw your mom the other day. She told me you were living with your dad. Are you okay with all that?”

  Getting agitated, he said, “I really don’t want to talk about it, Shelby.”

  In a softer tone, I uttered, “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to get in your business, but I do feel responsible.”

  “But you’re not the one who hit my mom. You didn’t make her decide to keep enduring that over supporting her own son. My dad’s an alcoholic and a gambler. He’s always had a little temper. My mom got out of a marriage with him and got into a marriage with someone equally foul. And she feels that just because Mr. Brown can provide her with the lifestyle she’s used to, she can look over the wrong that he does.”

  “But if I wouldn’t have said anything …”

  “I sort of knew. I looked the other way because my mom wanted me to look the other way. She brought me to live with them because she was scared of him. She won’t admit it, but I’m not stupid. She wants me to act a certain way and pretend like I’m okay with her getting knocked around occasionally.”

  “I’m sorry you had to move away from your mom to live with your dad.”

  “He’s not that bad anymore. Besides, I’m a senior this year. I’m really in both of their ways. Pretty soon I’ll be on my own, so whatever. I’ll see you around,” Spencer said before getting up.

  Something I said didn’t sit well with him. We were having a simple conversation, and then he was gone. I guess I pried too much. Watching him walk away I was impressed. Everything on his backside made me smile.

  “Dang, your cousin’s fine,” an irritating voice from earlier interrupted me from taking in the sight that was fading away.

  I looked up and confirmed it was the girl who tried to front on my clothes.

  “I’m Lyrica. I was trying to talk to you this morning.”

  “No, you were trying to go off on me this morning.”

  “Well, let me just set a few ground rules since you’re new here.”

  “This is a new school. Last time I checked I think we’re all new here.”

  “No, most of us came from Robert E. Lee High School. A few of you guys are new. The guys you were talking to over there, well, the cutie-pie is mine. Fritz Black. Don’t even think about trying to get with him.”

  “Telling me who you think I can’t have …,” I said as I stood up and eyed this Lyrica chick down, “ … is the wrong thing. Your guy was after me.”

  “You don’t want to cross me,” she said, thinking I would flinch.

  I picked up my tray, crossed right in front of her, and said, “I think I just did.” I left her standing there to figure it all out … like I was scared of her behind, whatever.

  “Oh no, you didn’t!” Lyrica yelled really loudly as I heard her coming toward me.

  “You need to step back, missy,” a soft but high-pitched male voice said.

  So I turned around. Was somebody defending me? And there stood the most stylish, coolest character I’d seen at the school. It was a guy with turquoise pants on and with a two-toned fro sprayed pink and gold that formed a V in the back. He had on yellow, wide-rimmed glasses with no lenses in the frames. He was sporting a blinged-out belt. The way his hand was on his hip and the fact that he had on girl’s tennis shoes, I knew this dude wasn’t a typical guy.

  “Jay, move out the way,” Lyrica told him like she knew him—with attitude, clearly not caring for him.

  “It’s Jazzy Jay, baby, and you get to stepping. We don’t want a repeat of the incident we had last year. You got embarrassed so bad you teeteed on yourself.”

  “Whatever, Jay,” Lyrica said, as she flicked her hand.

  “Jazzy Jay, baby, but you wouldn’t know anything about jazzy now would you?” he said, checking her out like she was a welfare case.

  Lyrica looked my way and said, “Scrub, Ms. Jazzy got your back and stuff, but you better watch it.”

  “Do I look scared?” I quickly told her.

  “Boo!” Jazzy Jay jumped and said, making Lyrica jump and pitifully hip-hop away like a one-legged rabbit.

  We both started cracking up when she hightailed it away.

  “I’m Shelby, Jazzy Jay.” Clearly I heard his name.

  He smiled. “You are sassy, Shelby. I like you’re style, girl. I had a class with your sistah Miss Ansli, and she told me how you hooked up her jacket. I was going to take it off of her, but she said you’d kill her. I’ve been looking for you for three periods. Tell the truth. How is my attire?”

  “Honest?”

  “That’s the only way I like it! She said you’re a real fashionista, and I can see that. My cousin is a designer, and I’m trying to get her to let me work with her, but she says I need to up my game and be a little more original. So, what ya think?”

  “You put it together well, but is any of it yours?”

  “Oh, you crush!”

  “I better get to government. It was nice meeting you, Jazzy.”

  “Hold up now! That’s where I’m going. Mr. Freeman’s class?”

  I nodded when I looked at my schedule and saw I had Mr. Freeman. Jazzy was popular with everybody. Everywhere we went people were giving him high fives, giving him shout-outs, and asking him about their outfits.

  “Thanks for stepping in with Lyrica back there,” I told him as we walked to class.

  “Uh, Ms. Goody Two-shoes thinks she owns the world. Fronting like her family got loot … she don’t even have two nickels to rub together. I heard she on free and reduced lunch just like me.”

  “Well, if she knew what I know, that’s not a bad thing.”

  “You know a rich girl would say that.”

  “I’m not rich. My dad makes it clear that his and my mom’s money is not my and my sisters’ money.”

  “Yeah, but every time you got your hand out, they fill it, don’t they?”

  “Not really.”

  “Well, if your parents work
hard and got it for you, don’t be ashamed of that. Poor people in the mess we in because our parents made piss-poor choices. Everybody could have got up off their tail and done betta. I was born black and gay, and that ain’t gonna change. I was born poor and born into the wrong body, and I’m working on both.”

  “Oh, you are silly!”

  “Just real, Miss Shelby, just real.”

  “You want to be a girl?”

  “Naw, I like who I am, but a little tits and tail ain’t never hurt nobody,” he said as he swatted me on the behind.

  “Ouch!”

  “Don’t act like you don’t like it!”

  “Should I be worried?” I said, looking at him until we walked into Mr. Freeman’s room. Both of us froze goo-goo eying over Spencer.

  “I saw him first!” Jazzy Jay said.

  “Hey, Shelby, come sit by me,” Spencer invited.

  “Dang, looks like he ain’t even interested. Handle that, girl, for the both of us.”

  “You are stupid,” I turned and jokingly said to my new friend.

  “So, you’re not mad at me anymore, huh?” I asked Spencer when I sat down beside him.

  “I had no right to get upset with you.”

  “I’m Jazzy Jay, and you would be?”

  “Spencer, what’s up?”

  “What’s up?” Jazzy Jay said with awe. “The muscles you are flexing on your chest are what’s up.”

  “Alright everybody sit down. I’m Mr. Freeman. I hear everybody’s been a little wild today. I know you guys are seniors and think you run the school. It’s a new school, but I got new house rules in here. We can have fun, but we’re gonna get a lesson. I run the show!” Mr. Freeman called roll, and he seemed impressed when he found out who I was.

  “You guys know her dad’s running for mayor and everything?”

  And I wanted to say, “And so is his stepdad.”

  But Spencer looked at me like, “Don’t you even open your mouth!” And I could understand. I wouldn’t want to claim Willie Brown either.

  “I’m just a student.”

  “Now, you are, but when your dad wins, you’re going to be one of the first kids of the city. I know you’re going to do well in here …,” Mr. Freeman leaned in and uttered, “the mayor’s daughter and all.”

  “Sir, my dad hasn’t won, and he doesn’t like us to speak as though he has. Trust me, there are some candidates out there who, even though he’s up in the polls today, are trying to make sure that my dad doesn’t win.”

  “Well, that’s a very first-class response. You know what, I need to talk to you anyway. Alright guys, turn to page 6 and start reading chapter 1. Do the discussion questions at the end.”

  Mr. Freeman came right over to me and said, “I’m just going to keep it real. I want to be in politics. I just got this job because I was trying to work for the city, but nothing was available. I had the credentials, and the school system was looking for male teachers. I know your dad hasn’t chosen everybody who’s going to serve in his administration. I wanted to know if I get you a résumé, would you show it to him? Is there somebody I need to call? You know, what’s the heads-up?”

  “I don’t know, sir, but I could find out and tell you.”

  “Oh, that’d be great! And don’t worry about your grade; I got you. At least this semester, because when he wins, I’m out!”

  “Like he wants your brownnosing butt around,” Jazzy Jay said after Freeman walked away.

  “Oh, so you were listening?”

  “Of course I was listening.”

  “I heard it too,” Spencer said. “You know, you’re probably going to get a lot of that cuz you looked all shocked, like you couldn’t believe he was trying to get stuff out of you because of who you are. It’s been happening to me a lot.”

  “Why has it been happening to you? You ain’t no Sharp. I mean, you’re sharp but …” Jazzy Jay said.

  “I’m just saying,” Spencer said to Jazzy, not wanting to reveal his identity.

  Diverting the conversation, I jumped in. “I just can’t believe him. He’s my teacher, and of course I want to help him out. I don’t want him to give me an F.”

  Spencer said, “Yeah, but what is it that you want out of life? As many people who are going to start coming at you for stuff because of who your dad is, start using them the same way.”

  “Oh yeah, that’s wassup. She wants to be a fashion designer,” Jazzy Jay added.

  Spencer nodded. “I’m sure there are people in this city who could help you with that.”

  “But I’m still in high school,” I said, doubting myself.

  Spencer encouraged, “So, who says you can’t branch out right now and start your dream? I’m just saying, you’re beautiful, and I already know you’re smart. You don’t take any mess off of anybody, but you’ve got a big heart. Go get yours! Be business sophisticated.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  SECRET

  “So do you have a boyfriend or what?” I said to my sister Ansli after school as I saw her waving good-bye to Hugo.

  “I know, right!?” she said, as we both screamed.

  We knew we didn’t have a lot of time to talk about it. All our siblings will be out at the car in no time. I wanted to drive to school, but my dad insisted on the first day he’d pick us up. Again, I didn’t know if it was a publicity stunt to show that he was the best dad in the world and to show his constituents that he truly supported public schools or if it was because he loved us. However, as soon as I saw him with his arms open wide, although I wasn’t in kindergarten anymore, I knew it was because he loved us. No cameras were around, no reporters, no witnesses, just a father happy to see his girls.

  “Don’t you say anything to Dad either. This is between us,” Ansli tugged on me and whispered.

  “I got you.”

  “See you later, Shelby,” Spencer said as he came from nowhere and headed toward the parking lot.

  “Wait, isn’t that that joker … he’s Mr. Brown’s son? The troublemaker goes to school here?” my dad said.

  Insulted, I defended, “He’s not a troublemaker, Dad. If you just let me explain.”

  “You know what I told you. I’m not getting into anyone else’s family drama, but I saw the way he was looking at you and the way you were looking back at him. His butt can’t do nothing for you but keep on walking,” my father voiced.

  I was so irritated. My dad had Spencer pegged all wrong. He wasn’t a hothead. He was actually quite level-headed and actually had me thinking about my future.

  When my three other sisters came out of school, my dad became preoccupied because the chatterboxes, particularly Sloan, wouldn’t stop going on about the day.

  That gave Ansli the chance to tug on my ear and say, “So you didn’t text me and tell me Spencer was here. Y’all were making goo-goo eyes. What is going on?”

  “Nothing. He is just cool, and I don’t want to talk about this now.”

  “Oh, no need to talk later. No secrets between us, Miss Thang.”

  Later after dinner, I was helping my mom straighten up the kitchen. We had a maid, but she was off on Mondays. Spencer’s idea would not leave my brain. I needed to chat with her.

  “Mom, why do people always say, ‘Do you know what you want to be when you grow up?’ Like why do you have to grow up to know what you want to be? Is it silly for a young person to start their career before they go to college? Is a degree the only thing that says one is qualified to pursue her dreams?”

  She stopped cleaning and squinted my way, “It’s just something we say. I guess more times than not, adults don’t want kids to grow up until they have to. But if there’s something deep inside of you yearning to come out, there’s absolutely nothing wrong in going for it. And when I think about it, most kids don’t really think about their future until the last minute. Why are you asking all of this? You ready to be my lawyer?”

  “Mom, come on. That’s your dream for me.”

  “I just want you to go a
fter something sensible. A lot of kids have pie-in-the-sky dreams. Like Slade wanting to be a singer. If you ask most African American males, they want to play sports. I mean come on. There’re not many Rihannas and LeBron Jameses out there, but every state and every city has tons of attorneys, doctors, and educators. I just thought you would want to take over your dad’s practice one day, that’s all.”

  Yes, I was inquisitive. And yes, I helped my mom step up her attorney wardrobe, but not because I was interested in the profession. She completely misunderstood. I just got tired of seeing attorneys so uptight. Suits could be fun. Splashes of colors here and there, the right cut, the right fit, the right tug, the right snug. She just needed glamorizing, and I helped. I had a gift, and I guess it was eating me up that I had to keep it to myself because my mother didn’t think I could make a living pursuing it.

  “Why don’t you go start your homework?”

  “It’s the first day of school, Mom. We don’t have any homework.”

  “Well, read ahead. We’ve always talked about that. That’s another thing that kills me with kids. Just because the teacher didn’t tell you to finish reading chapter 1 in whatever class you have, that does not mean that you don’t need to use common sense. Follow the syllabus, and get ahead!”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I said a little deflated that I wasn’t getting the encouragement from her that I desired.

  I went to my room and, taking her advice, pulled out my government book and began reading chapter 1. Our assignment was to read it in class and answer questions, but because Mr. Freeman talked to me the whole class period, I never read it. He told me I didn’t have to turn in the assignment, but my mom was right. It’s best to be ahead, and I certainly did not want to be behind. So I got through the chapter. It was full of people that came here with dreams and told how our government was first started. While I thought it was jacked up how they did the Native Americans, I appreciated their passion.

  I need to be able to show my mom that I could be a fashion designer. If it’s what I wanted, then I needed to start now and go after it wholeheartedly. I loved my scart, but it was time for me to sketch. I had no idea what I was going to create, but I thought about the characters I met—Lyrica, Jazzy Jay, and others I passed in the hallway—and the next coolest outfit for today’s modern kid went from my brain to the canvas. When the three stooges came in to tell me good night, Sloan snatched the paper away.

 

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